<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>nothing compares by Anonymous</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23345809">nothing compares</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Vinland Saga (Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Belly worship, Brother/Brother Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest, mentions of past rape/non-con, mild tit torture</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 09:02:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,125</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23345809</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>(racing up as if to deliver vital information) (bends over, panting) torgrim... hairy tummy</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Atli/Presumable Canon Wife (Vinland Saga), Torgrim/Atli (Vinland Saga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>nothing compares</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Stay inside! Wash your hands! @vinlandsaga on twitter for more brocontent 👍</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Atli likes a little bit of softness in his life. Furs, a nice mattress, a pretty girl to feel up on top of said mattress. His brother to cuddle him asleep once he's done with that. From about the knees to the shoulders, it's hard to imagine anything that feels better than Torgrim. (He likes his face plenty too, of course.)</p><p>But his brother's been the perfect size for him all their life. They were about the same as kids, so neither of them grew up with some kind of complex. They kept each other warm in bed, like normal brothers. Atli must've gone to their mother for comfort in the early days, but he can't remember much of that. His clearer memories are of his brother's arms around him, letting him hide his face from the monsters that lived inside the shadows cast on the walls by the firelight. He's only a year bigger and smarter, but Atli always fits perfectly in his arms.</p><p>"Don't be a baby. There's nothing there. You'll understand when you're older."</p><p>When Torgrim started filling out and getting stronger, that was right about the time they really needed to stop wrestling in public but hadn't worked out why yet. Getting constantly humiliated was reason enough for Atli to start begging off. They kept it up in private, of course. Easier to have fun that way. And that's where Atli starts noticing how nice his big brother feels, when there's more of him. Warm and soft, bearing down on him and using his full weight to hold him still. His hands playful and confident wherever he ends up grabbing. It leaves Atli a helpless mess long before he feels Torgrim's new stubble scraping his neck as his brother laughs in his ear.</p><p>"We'd better get this out of you in private," Torgrim always says. "If you really can't help liking it." It delights him that Atli likes it.</p><p>They're past the age where they can just gang up on the other boys, but Atli always has a sneaking fear in the back of his mind that Torgrim will try jumping in, if he embarrasses himself. He fights like a madman to keep that from happening. And he doesn't lose anything but the most friendly wrestling matches where no one's really trying. It never feels like it does with his brother. Some of the men their age have a little bulk on them, but none of them have Torgrim's hands or laugh. There's no reason for Atli to want to keep his hands on them. No give of skin under his fingers, no heart pounding in his ear with the same blood as his.</p><p>The way he thinks about it is, he'd lose even if it didn't get them both off, because Torgrim's bigger and that's how fighting works. So there's some good comes out of it, this way.</p><p>They stopped play-fighting as much once they started getting paid for the real thing. After a battle it's nicer just fooling around, feeling each other up more slowly. A little bit of gentleness, after wading around in corpses. Reminding each other they've come through it all right again. Not too gentle; it's not like they need to worry about each other, much. And Torgrim doesn't like him to get too tender. If Atli starts to shake or tear up he'll stop flat in the middle of whatever they're doing, and threaten him with bite marks in places that are impossible to hide.</p><p>Atli knows thinking about that is what gets <em>him</em> off. He brings it up too often for it to be anything else. Torgrim likes having his things on display, where everyone else can see them and understand what he's worth for having them. But he knows he can only show Atli off as a brother. He's always careful when he actually bites or scratches. So Atli doesn't tease him back about it. His brother's never tried to pin him down in public since Atli first started dodging him awkwardly.</p><p>Torgrim can still pin him, though. He's only getting bigger as they approach middle age. A little gasp's crept into his brother's laugh when Atli grabs him from behind and squeezes. He can get a full handful of his tits now, with more spilling out, and he can get himself off just riding the softness of his belly. A layer of coolness on top and then warm as he presses down further, burying himself in his brother. Torgrim says it makes him feel like a woman, getting groped and fucked on his back, and he won't allow it except when they're a very special kind of drunk.</p><p>The fat on his thighs gives way a bit even when they clamp down on Atli's elbow or legs, leaving a soft space between the iron muscles underneath. That's how his brother always is with him, gentle even when he has to teach a lesson. Not that Atli needs much correction. It's nice anyway.</p><p>Old age softens them both. Atli's put a little weight on around the middle himself—his wife and his brother give him the same warning look when he tries to leave the table with food still on his plate, which he's never pointed out to either of them. But it's nothing compared to his brother's middle. Nothing ever has been.</p><p>Torgrim doesn't fuss about being treated like a woman anymore. He actually insists sometimes, pulling Atli on top of him and rolling deliberately onto the other side of the bed. Atli tries not to look at the triumphant expression on Torgrim's face after he's been baited, as he always is, into kissing him and grabbing him and riding him in the spot where his wife sleeps. He doesn't like his brother to compare himself. But it's true. He is better. His tits fit perfectly in Atli's hands, and his belly fills up every space that Atli's body leaves between them. There's still a spring of muscle behind the fat, waiting to snap shut and hold him wherever Torgrim wants him to be. Just like the old days.</p><p>The other reason Atli tries not to look at Torgrim's face is that there's no real happiness in the triumph. He can't help how things are, and Torgrim can't help hating how things are.</p><p>They can leave all the marks they want now. Torgrim doesn't like bathing with the village men much. He won't say why, but Atli thinks it might be how unharmed he is, despite everything. No battle scars to explain his forced retirement. Of course he can't complain about it, since it's so much Atli's doing. They take their baths as a family, and the children won't be able to wonder for a few years yet.</p><p>Torgrim likes the idea of marks on Atli's face and throat, spots he can't keep hidden. Or he did. He might still, but he hasn't mentioned anything about it since the scarring set in from the rope they kept him on, in the tent. The only love bites he's left Atli with have been gentle ones on the thighs that last a day at most. Atli's not sure he'd mind a little more on his neck, as long as it's from his brother, but he's still persuading Torgrim back to any kind of roughness, and he doesn't want to waste his time on the little things.</p><p>He's allowed to do what he wants, meanwhile. Finally.</p><p>He starts with the chest, usually. They've got more sensitive over the years. Or maybe his brother just shows it more. Either way, a few nips are enough to start Torgrim breathing hard and swearing.</p><p>"Are you fucking me or trying to nurse?" he wants to know, one time early on when Atli's still working out how far they can stretch before the good hurt turns to bad. Their pricks rub together when Atli's riding the underside of his gut like this, and whatever he says, it's working for him too.</p><p>"Both," Atli suggests, coming up for air with his fingers still working in the dark gold hair on his brother's chest. It hides some of the evidence of how close they've been getting. Not all of it. He thinks his wife is pretty close to "asking" them to bathe by themselves, but it's not like the children know anything about this stuff yet.</p><p>"You're sure your jaw's all right?" Torgrim keeps asking that, at meals and when they're alone. Sometimes twice in one meal.</p><p>"Yeah," Atli says briefly, and squeezes a handful of belly as he goes back to the nipple. It's nothing serious, his jaw. It's only hard work like lengthy blowjobs that makes it hurt. Of course that'd be about the worst thing his brother could imagine—he bites down gently, affectionately, making Torgrim hiss—so it's no wonder he's latched onto it like this. It's not important, though.</p><p>Fuck, he used to love having his big brother's cock in his mouth. But that was all so long ago. At least they tried once or twice, the two of them, after he came home. His brother's will always be the first and last one inside him. Even if it can't be the only.</p><p>Atli's not going to miss giving them, anyway. There's plenty else to do. It would've been nice if things had worked out—if he <em>could</em> miss them. Being on his knees for his brother in a house he owns himself. It might've been nice.</p><p>"For fuck's sake," Torgrim says, suddenly sharp. "Look at you. Drooling like a baby."</p><p>Atli pauses his kneading around the other nipple and tries to take stock of everything else he's doing. "Mmh."</p><p>"Come on, stop it." Torgrim's voice is raw with agitation. "Act your age."</p><p>Wiping his chin off, Atli pulls his mouth and hands away from his brother's chest and stretches upward to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "It's all right. Everything's fine."</p><p>Torgrim doesn't say anything back, but he consents to having his hand held, and after a while his arms come up to wrap around Atli, as far as he can reach with Atli still moving against his belly. His arms are rarely anywhere else, these past few months when they're been alone with each other. His body is soft and warm and welcoming, everything it's always been and everything the tent wasn't. The way Torgrim holds him now is more nervous, but his arms still let Atli in and hold him exactly where he wants to be.</p><p>"I just don't like you working your jaw too hard," his brother says, right as Atli's focusing very hard on the thick treasure trail rubbing against the head of his prick. "You can't be so sure you know all your new limits."</p><p>"Hnnh." He might be drooling again, he wouldn't bet against it. Torgrim's belly is folding around him, like his own special entrance spilling open to take him in. "You're so hairy."</p><p>Torgrim pulls his chest hair. "Look who's talking."</p><p>It's enough. They're both so sensitive these days, rubbed raw against each other. His brother holds him steady as he shudders and spills himself, his fists gripping the blankets helplessly.</p><p>"Like I said," Torgrim tells him, wiping his belly with the back of his hand and tasting it absently, "you don't know your own limits." He shifts them both to one side with an effort and lets Atli climb off and curl up at his side.</p><p>"Don't you think I'm getting a little old for lectures?" Atli kisses his hand clean and reaches down to return the favor.</p><p>"When you learn how to take care of yourself." Torgrim pulls his gut up to make Atli's job easier. There are still traces of wetness in his belly hair. Down here their hair is almost the same shade of blond. "That's when you'll be too old to listen to your big brother."</p><p>This must be what a love-honeymoon's like, Atli decides. He doesn't like making his brother worry, but he does like the arm that curls protectively (possessively) around him as he goes to work. Keeping him safe, always, as long as they're together. He might have another go at those tits once he's done here, but there's the time to think about. They don't get to fall asleep together the way they used to. It's just a few minutes, really, grabbed out of the day to be alone.</p><p>Still, Torgrim has him pinned down tight, here between the strength of his arms and the softness of his body, and Atli knows it's lucky his brother won't force him to stay too long. Because he'd let himself be trapped just as long as Torgrim wants.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>